


When Your Heart is Ready

by still_lycoris



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drowning, Fever, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Loyalty, M/M, Poison, Protectiveness, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:09:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25090654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: When Gwaine is assigned to take Merlin on a trip out of Camelot, he thinks that it's going to be an easy ride. But when they are attacked, taken captive and Merlin is poisoned, Gwaine has to save him - and work out what matters most to him in the process.
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 18
Kudos: 211
Collections: Little Black Dress Exchange 2020





	When Your Heart is Ready

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jungle_ride](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/gifts).



When Arthur called him to the council chamber, Gwaine’s first thought was an indignant “But I haven’t done anything wrong for ages!” Which he supposed said a lot about him – possibly that he had gone soft or possibly that his expectations of himself were not all that high. He wasn’t sure which – or which would be better, for that matter. Didn’t matter either way. If the King had called him to the council chamber, there he would go and try to look innocent or proud, depending on exactly what was happening.

Arthur was smiling when he entered the room, so it probably wasn’t anything awful. Gwen was there with him and Merlin, of course. Gwaine winked at him and got a wink back in return. Nothing awful then. Merlin was very good at making signals behind Arthur’s back if Gwaine was about to get caught out for something.

“Gwaine,” Arthur said. “I have a quest for you.”

“Does it involve slaying anything?” Gwaine asked immediately. “Because if so, I promised Percival the next big slaying quest. He feels cheated, all those muscles, not enough action.”

Gwen turned a laugh into a cough. Arthur rolled his eyes.

“Nobody ever spoke to my father like this,” he said.

 _That’s because your father was a tyrant_ Gwaine thought but didn’t say it. Not talking about old kings was a pretty hard and fast rule even with people who _hadn’t_ developed a bundle of complexes about the whole business. Not that Gwaine could necessarily talk about that, but hey. At least his father hadn’t been a tyrant.

“No, Gwaine,” Arthur said now. “There’s no slaying involved. In fact, I’m lying, it’s less a quest and more escort duty, so the greatest risk to your life is dying of boredom. You’re taking Merlin to Castle Ranghild. Do you know it?”

“Vaguely,” Gwaine said, ignoring the excited leap in his heart. He was escorting Merlin somewhere? Alone? It had been a long time since he and Merlin had been able to spend time together and Gwaine hadn’t realised how much he’d missed it. Being a knight had taken plenty of time as it was; being a knight to the _king_ took even more time. It was mostly worth it, but sometimes he did miss the days when he could just up and leave whenever he felt like it.

“Well, it’s an important trading post and look-out point,” Arthur said. “Ranghild herself is completely insane – ”

“Arthur,” Gwen said.

“All right, all right, Ranghild herself is a very normal sort of lady who for some reason that definitely isn’t related to insanity thinks that Merlin is the bee’s knees. She always wants him to deliver any messages and since the castle is important, it’s best to humour her. So Merlin is riding out and because he’s useless, I thought he should have a knightly escort and that’s you. It’s not a long way and there’s been no reports of anything dangerous that way so you shouldn’t actually need to do anything.”

“Is she pretty?” Gwaine asked Merlin, grinning.

“Very,” Merlin said, just as Arthur irritably said “No.”

“Arthur,” Merlin said cheerfully. “You’re a married man now. It’s okay that beautiful women are attracted to me and not you. It would be quite wrong the other way around. We don’t need to have these childish competitions any more over people thinking I’m the better looking one.”

Gwen was laughing again. Arthur was wearing his I-don’t-know-why-I-haven’t-fired-you-yet face. Merlin just beamed at him, as though he was completely oblivious. Gwaine had to bite back a chortle.

“Feel free to lose him in a bog somewhere on the way home,” Arthur said and Gwaine went off to pack.

*

“So you can tell me,” he said to Merlin as they rode out. “Did you ask for me specially cause I’m your favourite?”

Merlin laughed at him. He looked so happy when he laughed and it occurred to Gwaine that it had been a while since he’d seen that. Merlin always looked so serious these days. Which, okay, being manservant to the king was a serious job but this was _Merlin_. He couldn’t be that serious, even about looking after a king.

“Actually, I asked for Percival,” Merlin was saying. “Hey, like you said, those muscles are just wasted at Camelot!”

“But I have better hair,” Gwaine said and tossed it to make the point. Merlin laughed again and Gwaine decided that his mission on his trip was going to make sure that Merlin laughed as much as humanly possible. He was normally pretty good at that. It was funny, how you end up in a group and instantly developed a role in it. None of them ever said it but they all knew that Leon was the responsible one who never let you down, Elyan was the dry humoured one who would always stick up for you, Percival was the strong one who would always check you were okay and Gwaine was the funny one that said what needed saying – and sometimes what _didn’t_ need saying, depending on the circumstances. Most of the time, Gwaine didn’t mind it. Especially as it made it easier for him now to perk Merlin’s spirits up and just look like he was being himself.

He kept up a run of jokes and irreverent observations as they rode. It was a nice day, warm and sunny and, as Arthur said, the Castle Ranghild wasn’t in a dangerous place, not if you were coming to it from Camelot anyway. The forest had been long cleared of bandits, even before Arthur’s reign and it was really the kind of ride that you’d take if you were taking somebody on a romantic trip.

Gwaine was thinking about bringing that up when the ambush came.

It was out of nowhere. The only warning was Merlin’s horse rearing and it was so sudden that Merlin went flying, landing on the ground with a heavy _whoomph._ Gwaine yelled his name, half-off his own horse before he realised _why_ Merlin’s horse had reared and what was happening.

He got off his own horse anyway. Merlin was on the ground, looking winded and Gwaine wasn’t going to risk accidentally trampling him while fending off armed men. And the armed men were coming now, coming from both sides. They weren’t knights but they weren’t just bandits either, they were strong and well armed and they were prepared for a fight. Merlin was struggling to his feet but he wasn’t armed and even if he had been, two of them versus twenty men? Not great odds.

_Your chances looked slim to none. Guess I kind of liked the look of those odds._

He remembered saying that to Merlin when they’d first met. It was so much easier to feel that way you didn’t care what happened to you. When you had nothing – and nobody – to lose.

One of the men had reached Merlin and grabbed for him. Merlin twisted out of the way and smacked him in the face with a rock that he’d scooped up off the ground. Gwaine gave his best battle cry and dived in, all his senses alert and ready. He took a swipe at one man, then twisted to block the blow of another. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Merlin take another shot with his rock and moved closer to him, trying to make sure that he could protect him as much as possible. 

The men weren’t trying to kill him, he noticed as he took another swing. It was a deliberate attack they were making. They wanted them alive and Gwaine wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. Sometimes, it was better to be killed than taken alive. If people wanted you alive, they wanted you _for_ something and – 

A sudden sharp cry behind him. He whirled around and saw Merlin, now standing quite still as a man gripped him and a bright, shining knife held close at his throat. It was a professional hold. One gash and the chances were that Merlin would bleed out almost before he hit the ground.

Gwaine went still, holding his sword out. The other men had gone still too, clearly seeing that the balance was about to tip one way or another.

“Easy does it,” the man said softly. “Or I’ll spill his blood.”

“No need for that,” Gwaine said, keeping his own voice equally as soft. “Why don’t we talk about this? Whatever you want, I’m sure we can make it work.”

“Oh, certainly,” the man said. “Drop your sword. Now.”

Gwaine didn’t move. The man twitched the knife a little and Merlin flinched. Gwaine dropped the sword. There was no choice. He could get back on top of this, even unarmed, he knew it and he couldn’t risk Merlin being killed over a standoff.

Hands grabbed him at once, yanking his arms behind his back. Other men stepped forward, doing the same to Merlin. The first man didn’t take the knife away until Gwaine was securely tied. One of them tore off his scarlet cloak, bundling it up.

“What about their stuff?”

“Take it. We’ll get a good price for those horses, further down the line.”

“If it’s money you want, we can do a deal,” Gwaine said, keeping his voice easy.

“But it’s not,” the man said. “So keep your mouth shut.”

There was nothing like being told to keep his mouth shut to make Gwaine want to open it. He could feel a nice little speech building up in his throat about how men who smelt like sewers would do better to keep their own mouths shut when Merlin gave him a nudge and shook his head slightly. Gwaine held his tongue.

The men was moving very efficiently, he noticed. They were obviously experts, which wasn’t necessarily a good sign, particularly as Gwaine still wasn’t sure what they were experts in. Slavers? The man had marked Merlin’s neck a little but not his face. But why go for a knight of Camelot for a slave? It was unlikely to go well. All right, they’d got him _now_ but they had to know Gwaine would fight back and that even if they got him to the markets, he’d make a lousy slave. And the chances were they’d never get him to the markets as the king would certainly send people after him. 

So there had to be something else.

“Move.”

One of the men prodded him and Gwaine obeyed, walking forwards carefully. He hadn’t had to walk with his hands tied behind his back for a long while but he remembered that you had to fret about balance. He could hear Merlin stumbling behind him and did his best to keep near, hoping that he could catch Merlin if he tripped. Merlin could be clumsy sometimes.

The men walked in relative silence, which was another bad sign. They were professionals at whatever they were doing. They weren’t loud or drawing attention to themselves now that they weren’t fighting. They were just getting on with it. Brilliant.

He wasn’t sure how far they walked but the men quickly took them off the path and straight into the woods. Gwaine had to put aside any ideas about doing anything except walking. The men clearly knew where they were going but the ground was overgrown and tricky. Easy if you were properly balanced but difficult when your hands were behind you and your arms were beginning to throb. And you had to keep looking up to make sure you didn’t walk into low hanging branches, branches that you couldn’t just push aside but had to duck or weave to get around. It was not really what Gwaine would have described as _fun_.

“All right.” That was the man that Gwaine was pretty sure was the leader. “Here.”

Someone grabbed Gwaine by the shoulders and shoved him down beside a tree. A second later, Merlin was next to him and the men were moving around, setting up camp. Gwaine looked at Merlin.

“You okay?”

“Fine,” Merlin whispered back. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.”

“Don’t be stupid. There were more of them than us. We weren’t getting out of it.”

Merlin didn’t quite look as though he believed him but Gwaine knew it was right. You could fight impossible odds but it didn’t mean that you were going to be able to win. Merlin wasn’t a knight and although he’d obviously picked up plenty of skills over the years, he couldn’t work miracles.

“If you can get to the horses, you could get away,” Merlin said, dropping his voice even lower.

“Sure. If I can get our hands lose and they aren’t watching.”

“ _Your_ hands. If you have the chance – ”

“None of that, I’m not leaving you alone here with these men.”

Merlin was opening his mouth to answer when the leader approached and he quickly went quiet. Gwaine lifted his head and stared the man in the eye, trying to look as though he wasn’t at all disturbed by being captured and tied up. The leader smirked at him. He was holding a small bottle in his hand.

“One of you is going to drink this,” he said, quite conversationally. “Volunteers?”

“I’ll drink it!” Merlin said instantly, before Gwaine could ask what was in the bottle or why they should or _anything_.

“No!” he said. “No, give it to – ”

But the man had already stepped forward and Merlin had opened his mouth and was allowing the contents to be tipped down his throat before Gwaine could finish. He wanted to scream. Why was Merlin always _like_ this? Why wouldn’t he ever let someone else take the blow? Gwaine wasn’t Arthur, he didn’t need protecting!

Merlin was pulling a face. Obviously, whatever the liquid was, it hadn’t tasted very nice. Gwaine glared at the man.

“What did you just do?!”

“Poisoned him,” the man said. He said it with a casualness that made Gwaine want to stab him through the throat. “It’s a mighty useful little thing, this one. Causes violent cramps, pain that swiftly goes to agony, fever, delirium, then death. With maybe a few little things in the middle for fun.”

“You bas – ”

“Hold your tongue before you say something you regret,” the man said lazily. “It’s not permanent. I have the antidote right here.”

He produced another bottle, a larger one, and waved it in the air.

“If I give some to your friend every hour, he won’t even feel the symptoms. Every two hours, he’ll only get a little achy. Every two and a half and well, he’ll likely be begging for it. He gets it every hour if you’re good. Misbehaviour and I’ll stretch it out as long as I think is deserved. Don’t think about running away. You’ll never get far enough and he’ll die in blinding agony.”

Gwaine felt sick. He looked at Merlin. Merlin was very pale and his lips were pressed tightly together. The man smirked at them.

“I’ll let you both think about it,” he said.

“You can give him the antidote,” Gwaine said, trying to keep the rage and bitterness out of his voice. “I won’t try to run.”

“Oh, I know that. Knew it the minute you dropped your sword for him. But I wouldn’t want you to think I’m lying. I’ll see you in two and a half hours.”

Gwaine lurched upright, forgetting everything except the desire to ram his head into this bastard’s smug, smirking face. Someone grabbed him immediately and slammed him back against the tree and the leader laughed.

“Two and three-quarter hours,” he said and walked away to where the others were setting up a fire and going through Gwaine and Merlin’s sandbags.

“I’m sorry,” Gwaine said. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s all right,” Merlin said. His voice was shaking slightly “Don’t ... don’t worry about it.”

“You should have let me drink it! Why didn’t you let me?”

“You’re a knight,” Merlin said in that reasonable voice that he sometimes produced. “I’m a servant. I’m supposed to drink the poison.”

“You’re not _my_ servant, you’re my friend! You think I want to see you suffering? You think Arthur will thank me if I come home without you?!”

His voice was rising and he took a deep breath to quiet it. He didn’t want any of these bastards knowing how upset he was and anyway, getting upsetting wouldn’t help Merlin. Merlin, who was blinking at him in that surprised way, as though he couldn’t quite imagine why Gwaine was getting so angry to begin with.

“You’re my friend,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t want to see you in pain either.”

Which Gwaine couldn’t really argue with, however much he wanted to. He sighed and nudged Merlin gently with his elbow, trying to communicate just how much he wished Merlin wasn’t going to have to suffer this without words.

“It might not hurt much anyway,” Merlin said, voice deliberately cheerful. “I’ve got a high pain threshold you know! Arthur’s sparred with me more than once!”

Gwaine managed a laugh but it was a weak one. He kept looking at Merlin out of the corner of his eye, even though the leader had said that nothing would happen for two hours. Was Merlin looking a little paler than before? Or was it just this insane situation? He told himself that he was being ridicules but it was _Merlin_. Merlin who had changed his life entirely without even meaning to, Merlin who was loyal and brave and funny, Merlin who ... who Gwaine cared about. A lot.

He knew the moment Merlin felt the first symptom properly. He winced and gave a tiny gasp.

“Merlin?”

“It’s nothing,” Merlin said. “It’s probably just a cramp.”

“Sure,” Gwaine agreed. “Just a cramp. A long one.”

“Yeah,” Merlin said. He took a deep breath. “It’s fine. Do you think they’re going to feed us?”

“Probably,” Gwaine said. “If they want us to keep moving, they’ll feed us and I think they do. They’re professionals, Merlin. I don’t know what they want but they aren’t done with whatever it is.”

“Well, that’s good,” Merlin said, sounding a little breathless. “I like surprises. And food. Maybe they’re good cooks!”

“Probably better than you,” Gwaine said, trying to keep his voice light and cheery. “I’ve tried the stuff you feed us on campaign.”

“Yeah, and you eat all of it too!”

Gwaine laughed. He could almost pretend everything was all right. That they were fine, that Arthur and the other knights were around the fire and he and Merlin were just sitting separately for a minute, maybe sorting out the horses or something, like they’d done a hundred times before. If it weren’t for the ache in his bound wrists and the way Merlin was beginning to twitch, everything might have been all right.

Another half an hour and Merlin couldn’t pretend that he was all right any more. He was hunched over and his breath was coming in constant shaky gasps. Gwaine itched to put an arm around him and hated that all he could manage was a pathetic shoulder bump. He looked over at the men but he knew it was pointless. They weren’t going to help Merlin out, not until the leader said it was time.

“Oh _God!_ ” Merlin’s voice was shrill. “Gwaine – ”

“It’s all right,” Gwaine said. “It’s all right, it’s not much longer and he’ll give you the antidote. It’s all right Merlin. You can take this.”

“Gwaine, it hurts!”

“I know. You’re going to be fine. That’s it, Merlin. Just keep breathing. You’re fine. You’re fine.”

He kept whispering, even though it was becoming clearer and clearer that Merlin was anything but fine. He was whimpering steadily and his legs kept twitching. Gwaine looked over at the men again. If he apologised, would Merlin get that antidote quicker? Or would it just lengthen the time? Lengthen, most likely. He needed to sit and wait and keep control of himself until these bastards were done.

Merlin’s breath was coming in pants now and there was a sheen of sweat on his skin. He wasn’t responding to the things Gwaine was saying any more. He was just rocking back and forth, shuddering. Gwaine hurt just watching him.

“Not fun, is it?”

The leader. Gwaine swallowed then looked up at him.

“Please,” he said, forcing his voice to sound as apologetic as it could. “Please. Give him the antidote.”

The leader gestured and two of the other men stepped forward. They yanked Gwaine to his feet and started untying him. Gwaine let them do it, staring all the while at Merlin.

“Armour off,” the leader ordered. “You can keep your clothes.”

Gwaine forced his numb arms to obey, wriggling out of the armour as quickly as he could. One of the men handed him a tunic to put on and he yanked it over his undershirt, then looked at the leader again.

“ _Please!_ ”

The leader was smirking. Gwaine itched to grab him and smash his face against the nearest tree. He prayed his rage wasn’t visible. He couldn’t afford it. Merlin couldn’t afford it.

“Here. Give it to him.”

The leader held out a bottle. Gwaine snatched it and dropped to his knees, pulling Merlin close.

“All right Merlin. Open your mouth. Come on now. Swallow it down.”

Merlin was shivering and his skin was hot. He swallowed the liquid, coughing a little as he did. Gwaine stroked the back of his neck as soothingly as he could watching as Merlin’s face relaxed and his breath began to sound deeper again.

“You won’t misbehave, will you?” The leader sounded smug. Gwaine clenched his teeth so tightly that he thought they might break.

“No,” he said.

“Good.”

The man turned away. 

“Feed them both,” he said. “Then tie them up again.”

Gwaine helped lift Merlin so one of the men could untie his hands. Merlin was looking healthier every second. He smiled at Gwaine, a shaky smile, but a definite one. His hands were still shaking and when one of the men shoved a plate at him, he almost dropped it. Gwaine put his hands underneath and grinned.

“Easy there.”

“Trying,” Merlin said. “Sorry. Food. Looks sort of like something Leon would cook!”

Which was code for “this food looks awful.” Leon was by the far the worst cook amongst them and was basically never allowed anywhere near the rations. Gwaine nodded to show that he understood and then took his own. The food _did_ look awful but he ate all of it anyway. No point doing himself out of food when it was there and he’d eaten far worse in the days before Camelot.

The moment he was done, he was shoved against a tree and a second later, Merlin was next to him. They were tied to it and then their hands and feet were tied for good measure. Then they men walked back to the fire and Gwaine and Merlin were alone.

“Are you really all right?” Gwaine asked.

“Yeah. It’s fading quickly. It’s like it was never there.”

“But it was,” Gwaine said. “We can’t ... do anything without that antidote. I don’t want to watch that again.”

“I don’t want to feel it again!” Merlin said. He was clearly trying to make a joke of it but his mouth twitched a little as he spoke and Gwaine knew that he was afraid. He wished he could say something truly comforting but there was nothing and he knew it so he fell back on his tried and tested role.

“Ah well. It’ll be fine, you’ll see. They’re probably only keeping us for sport, you know? Little minds like that, they’ll soon get bored, give you the antidote for real and let us go.”

It wasn’t really funny so much as a string of unlikely lies but Merlin gave a soft laugh anyway. He drew his knees up and wriggled in the ropes, leaning against Gwaine a little.

“Arthur will be looking for us soon,” he said, very softly. “Lady Ranghild’s never patient, she’ll be asking why I never arrived and he’ll come straight out. We should try to leave marks, if we can.”

Gwaine nodded, though he wasn’t sure that it would work. These men were clever and cunning and there had been some walking behind them all the way. He was pretty confident they would erase any tracks. But there was always a chance and if they were both trying, something might get through. Arthur and Leon were both excellent trackers and Gwaine had seen Arthur looking for Merlin before. The man would be single-minded about it. There was a possibility – and since these men didn’t want then dead, it was a decent possibility – that Arthur would find them.

“What do you think they actually want?” Merlin asked.

“No idea. Slavers? But we’re a little bit of a risk for that. I mean, you might be all right but can you imagine me with a master?”

Merlin snorted and Gwaine grinned at him. As long as Merlin was entertained, Gwaine was doing his job. And it wasn’t as though there was much else he could do. He could move his legs and flex his arms but that was about it. He could watch the men but they’d sat themselves far enough away that their conversation wasn’t distinct. The fire wasn’t sending much heat their way but the weather was mild and Gwaine didn’t think they’d freeze.

“You want to rest, go ahead,” he murmured. “You must be tired after all that.”

“You might as well rest too,” Merlin pointed out. “If they want us alive, they aren’t likely to let us get eaten by wolves or anything.”

It was a fair point and Gwaine knew he’d be better trying to sleep but he couldn’t bring himself to. He didn’t feel safe and he didn’t feel like Merlin was safe either and that was his priority right now.

“I’ll get some sleep,” he lied. “Hey, you put your head on my shoulder and then I can use your hair as a fluffy pillow, yeah?”

Merlin gave a soft huff that might have been laughter, but he did as Gwaine had suggested. Gwaine was happy to lean against him. Merlin’s hair was soft and it let Gwaine think of something that wasn’t his aching wrists or the way his knees were cramping. He listened to Merlin breathe and thought out escape plans, each more unlikely than the last. But it didn’t mean it was hopeless. It wasn’t hopeless. He was Sir Gwaine, Knight of Camelot and before that, he’d been Gwaine the Rogue of Nowhere and nothing had ever beaten him yet.

He dozed on and off throughout the night. He couldn’t sleep deeply – he wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t just that. Merlin had to be given his antidote throughout the night. The men were mostly good at getting there before the pain started but once, Gwaine was woken by Merlin giving a little sobbing moan and twitching.

“It’s fine,” he whispered, seeing Gwaine looking at him. “Sorry.”

“No worries,” Gwaine whispered back, resisting the urge to glare at the man who was coming over to provide the antidote. “You’re okay, right?”

“Sure. Wouldn’t mind a little bit more sleep! It’s like being with Arthur when it’s too hot and he’s in a bad mood and won’t let anybody rest.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that too. Fussy little sweetheart, isn’t he?”

Merlin gave a little laugh.. He put his head back on Gwaine’s shoulder. His cheek was warm, which helped a little. Gwaine leaned back and tried to flex his muscles some more. They were knotting. He hoped that the men would give them some time in the morning before making them move again.

“Gwaine,” Merlin’s voice was quiet. “If anything happens and you can get away, you should.”

“Yeah, sure,” Gwaine said. “I can see it now, abandoning you to your fate. I bet everyone in Camelot will welcome me back in.”

“If the men want us alive, one might be just as good as two. You can get away, bring help. Better one of us safe than – ”

“Merlin. Shut up. We already discussed this. I am _not_ going to abandon you. There is _nothing_ you can say that would make me leave you. Nothing, do you understand? We get out together or we face the music together. Now get some sleep before your next dose, all right?”

Merlin gave a soft sigh and didn’t speak again. His breath deepened and Gwaine started at the glowing embers of the fire until his eyes blurred.

*

The men stirred properly at dawn and began packing up their camp. Gwaine and Merlin were untied and fed (and Merlin given the next dose of antidote) and allowed to stretch before their hands were tied again and they were ordered to walk. Gwaine stayed polite and deferent and bit back every sneering comment that bubbled inside his throat. God, if he could just lay a hand on his sword, he’d have every single one of these men. He’d let the leader live just long enough to let him know what he thought of stinking kidnappers, then kill him. It might not quite be the way of a knight of Camelot but it would be satisfying.

He entertained himself with the thoughts as they walked. It gave him something to think about other than trying not to trip over roots or brain himself on branches. He had made sure that he was walking in front of Merlin so he could pause and hold branches sometimes or let Merlin know if there was anything tricky in front of him. Merlin always thanked him. He looked a little paler than usual and Gwaine wondered if it was the poison. Damn Merlin for being so quick to take that poison. Damn himself for not being quick enough to take it instead.

They were stopped eventually and give water and a rather rough lunch. Gwaine noticed rather gloomily that some of the men had separated from the group and they had taken the horses with them. That was one solution gone – and Gwaine had liked that horse too. He pushed the thought away – couldn’t do anything about it, couldn’t change it and he needed to focus on protecting Merlin.

The woods were thinning out now. Gwaine wasn’t exactly sure where they were. Over the Camelot border, he was pretty sure. There were mountains in the distance and the place looked fairly neglected. They’d ridden and walked long enough that they were well off the beaten track. Gwaine hadn’t even been this way back in this travelling days and didn’t that feel like a hundred years ago?

“Nice view,” Merlin commented. “Hope we’re going to climb all the way up. I never get to go mountain climbing.”

“It’s overrated,” Gwaine said. “Lot of scrabbling and getting cold. Better off in a wood.”

“Doesn’t look like we’ll get much of a choice,” Merlin said and Gwaine could see he was right. The men were moving again and glaring because Gwaine and Merlin were standing still. And they were walking towards the mountains. Gwaine signed and let his feet start moving again. Arthur and the others would probably be out looking by now. He just hoped they would do well enough.

*

They’d been walking for about another hour, extremely close to the mountains now, when second group of men appeared on the road. Gwaine thought that this group looked worse than the first. There was something about them that made him feel extremely uneasy, though he wasn’t sure that he could have said what. They were neat and tidy but their eyes were blank and they stared at him with what Gwaine thought looked rather like greed.

“Normally I like to be wanted,” he whispered in Merlin’s ear. “Not sure about this though!”

Merlin managed a weak grin but he obviously didn’t think it was very funny. His face was pale and Gwaine was pretty sure he was due another dose of antidote but nobody seemed to be paying attention. The leader was talking to this new group of men and Gwaine saw what he was pretty sure was a bag of money exchanging hands. Bounty hunters then, of a sort at least. But why?

The new men came forward. Their old captives turned and walked away without a backwards glance. Gwaine looked at their new captors, trying to see if they looked like they might be any more sympathetic. It didn’t look like it.

“Well,” he said. “And what now?”

“You move,” one of the men said.

They moved. They didn’t have to walk much further before they found themselves looking at a small settlement. It looked neglected and Gwaine wondered which jurisdiction they were in. Not Camelot – perhaps one of the outskirts of Mercia? Certainly nowhere near anywhere he’d ever been.

To Gwaine’s slight surprise, they were untied before being pushed into a small hut. The floor was matted with rushes, freshly so, which Gwaine supposed was a blessing, and it was dark but not claustrophobically so, even with the door shut. There was a small window and one of the men came to it.

“He gets his antidote every hour through here, if you behave. If you do not, he suffers and dies.”

“We know the rules,” Gwaine said coldly. “You going to tell us why we’re here?”

“You will find out tomorrow,” the man said. “Food will be brought. This hut is guarded, you will not escape and if you try, you both die.”

He walked away. Gwaine looked out of the window anyway. It was far too small to try and climb out of but he could see that their hut was surrounded. He had a feeling that it went right round the hut.

“They really, _really_ don’t want us getting out,” he said quietly.

“What do you think they want?” Merlin asked. He was exploring the hut anyway, running his hands over the walls, going on tip-toe to examine the ceiling, pulling the rushes back to look at the floor.

“Nothing good,” Gwaine said. “They’ve paid for us, so it’s not random, but they haven’t addressed us by name or anything so I don’t think they picked us because of who we are. I don’t think we’re hostages, not all the way out here. I don’t know, Merlin.”

Merlin gave a soft sigh. He sat down and Gwaine joined him, pressing their shoulders together again. 

“Best thing we can do is get some rest,” he said. “Wait and see what happens. At least we know it’ll be tomorrow.”

“Oh, I just love waiting to see what will happen to me in the morning,” Merlin said. “It’s always so much fun. Remind me why I ever stayed in Camelot?”

“Masochism,” Gwaine said. “Only reason you’d put up with that prat for so long.”

He still didn’t want to mention Arthur’s name, despite thinking they weren’t specific hostages. Better safe than sorry. Merlin grinned at him, then winced. Gwaine went to the window.

“Hey. He needs his antidote!”

One of the men brought it forward immediately, handing the dose through, along with two plates of food. Gwaine looked at the plates hard as he took them over to Merlin.

“It’s odd,” he said quietly as Merlin gulped back the antidote. “They’ve arranged it all nice, see? Like it matters. But it looks like it’s out of the back of a store somewhere.”

“Well, it’s not like we’re guests,” Merlin said. “But then why make it look nice?”

Gwaine shrugged. There was a creeping sensation inside him that told him that there was nothing good about this. All right, he’d known that before but this, it said something else, something he didn’t want to hear. They were wanted for something specific and the people didn’t want them hurt before it.

“Famine fare,” Merlin said quietly.

“What?”

“It’s famine fare. They’ve dug it out of storage because they don’t have much food. Perhaps any. They want to feed us but they’re taking from themselves to do it.”

Gwaine felt colder still. He pushed the food away but Merlin shook his head.

“Eat it. We need the strength and they want us to have it. We don’t want them to be insulted by us refusing it.”

Gwaine had no appetite but he forced the food down and Merlin did the same. They stacked the plates on the windowsill and someone came for them almost at once, handing two skins in exchange, one of water and one of wine. The wine was sour and Gwaine decided that it was better to be sober in any case. The water was warm but drinkable.

“Might as well try and sleep,” he said. “Catch up on rest. Want to cuddle together for warmth?”

He’d meant it as a sort of joke but to his slight surprise, Merlin came to him immediately, lying down beside him and putting his head on Gwaine’s shoulder. Gwaine wrapped an arm around his shoulders and stared up at the ceiling, trying to push a few less than sensible thoughts out of his mind.

“We might die tomorrow,” Merlin said quietly.

“We might. But hopefully not, yeah? You know me Merlin, I am never without a plan.”

Merlin gave a soft laugh. His breath tickled Gwaine’s throat. It was a nice feeling and Gwaine wondered what Merlin would do if Gwaine kissed him.

He’d thought about it before. He’d thought about it many times but he’d never done it. Merlin was a friend, the first friend Gwaine had ever really had and Gwaine had never wanted to mess with that. He’d always been afraid. Now they were lying in a rapidly darkening hut with the potential of death looming large and Gwaine wondered if kissing could really make such a mess of anything.

But on the other hand, it might feel like giving up. Like saying “Yeah, we’re not making it out of this one.” And if Merlin wasn’t interested, if Merlin didn’t want it, then they’d be stuck awkwardly in here, trying to pretend everything was all right when it wasn’t. At least this way, they could cuddle close and Gwaine could tell himself that he was helping.

He stroked Merlin’s hair gently and Merlin gave a little sigh. He sounded like he was dozing off and Gwaine closed his own eyes and told himself that tomorrow, when they somehow got out of this, when some amazing plan all came together, he would kiss Merlin then and it would be a glorious celebration and not fear. It would be wonderful.

All they had to do was survive.

*

It was still dark in the hut when men came to collect them.

Of course, they hadn’t been able to sleep soundly – Merlin had needed his antidote throughout the night, just as he had the night before. But Gwaine felt a little more rested from lying down than he had from being tied to a tree. Still, he wasn’t expecting quite such an early wake up call. There were faint streaks in the sky suggesting that the sun was close to rising but it was very, very early.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

They didn’t answer. He was being pulled away from Merlin, he realised, pulled forward more quickly.

“Where are you taking him?” Merlin shouted. “What are you doing?!”

The men didn’t answer. They continued to pull Gwaine along and when Gwaine struggled, one of them hit him, quite hard around the back of the head. As Gwaine stumbled, blinking away the stars, he saw in the rapidly improving light that they were pulling him towards a pole, a pole that had clearly been carefully placed in the rocks beneath the looming shadow of one of the mountains. There were torches lit beside it and they illuminated stains in the rocks; dark rusty stains around it and then Gwaine knew.

Sacrifice.

They were going to sacrifice him.

Not many people in Albion were into the practise of human sacrifice but some did entertain it for various reasons. Some sort of muddled idea that it brought about luck, rain, good crops, all of that sort of thing. Gwaine had run into the occasional group before and always steered well clear. Nobody in the region of Camelot had ever done such a thing and he hadn’t ever thought he’d run into it again.

Now he had. Probably for the last time. 

“No!” he heard Merlin scream from behind him. “No, no, _no!_ Gwaine! _Gwaine!_ ”

So he knew then. Gwaine wondered if they’d let him go or just keep him for the next time around. God, he hoped they’d let him go. He could bear death if he thought that Merlin at least would be safe. Merlin could go home, back to Arthur and Gwen and the knights and he’d be safe and Gwaine would have done something worthwhile with his stupid, pointless life because he’d have at least kept Merlin alive.

They were holding him against the pole, preparing to tie him up. Gwaine could hear Merlin still screaming, something incoherent now, though there were words there if he just – 

A crash. A roaring sound. For a moment, Gwaine saw the faces of the men in front of him and every single one of them was turning white with horror. Then he felt something slam into his back and he was underwater.

Years ago, long before Camelot, he had been running away from a card game gone rather wrong and had jumped into a river to get away. He’d been confident that he would simply swim to the other side but he had realised quickly that he’d made a very stupid mistake. Rivers ran and they ran fast and if you didn’t know them, you wouldn’t know which way was up or down and you could drown before you knew it.

It was like that now. There wasn’t really time to think about it. He did nothing except struggle to try and get his head back into the air. Fighting against the current, trying to remember which way was up, praying to every deity he knew that he wouldn’t drown.

Hands grabbed at him. He fought for a second, thinking it was a danger before he realised that whoever they belonged to, they were trying to help. He relaxed and then he was breathing air again and Merlin, Merlin was holding his arms, his face white as they struggled together in the water, both desperately trying to stay up.

Now Gwaine could breathe again, his strength came back. He kicked towards the bank and Merlin kicked with him until they were scrambling onto dry land, coughing and spluttering.

“Something must have broken,” Merlin choked out. “Meltwater on the mountain.”

Gwaine supposed that he was right, though he couldn’t imagine quite how it had happened so suddenly. Lucky for him that it had and that it had come in such a flood.

“Do you think the others – ?”

“I think they all went under,” Merlin said.

Gwaine shuddered. Despite what the people had done – and tried to do – it seemed an unpleasant fate. He supposed some might struggle to the edges, survive, but a lot would sink and be washed up miles from anywhere where nobody even knew their names.

Then something else hit him.

“Merlin – when did you last have your antidote?”

Merlin just looked at him, his face grave. Gwaine got to his feet.

“We’ve got move Merlin. We’ve got to find help _now_.”

Merlin got up but he was shaking his head.

“Gwaine. We’re miles from Camelot. We’re miles from _anywhere_. It’s no good.”

“Oh come on, I’ve seen you battle through way more hopeless situations than this!” Gwaine said merrily, flippantly, as though he was relaxed, even though his heart was racing and he felt almost as though he couldn’t breathe. Merlin was right. They were miles from anywhere and Merlin would soon be struggling to walk. They had no idea what the poison was, no idea what to ask people for if they found anybody.

“Gwaine.” Merlin’s voice was quiet.

“ _No!_ ” he said sharply. “ _No_ , Merlin! Come on! We’re going! We’re going and we’re finding help! Walk with me! Now!”

Merlin nodded his head quietly and they began to walk. Gwaine tried to think logically about the direction. Was it worth retracing their steps? There had been a few signs of habitation but they might belong to the people who had wanted to cut his heart out. The last thing Gwaine wanted was to be in a fight, particularly as he was unarmed. And he had no idea how far this torrent had swept them either. The mountains looked a long way off. Miles, probably.

They were in the worst position that Gwaine would ever remember being in. And he’d been in a lot of terrible positions.

Still. His job was to keep smiling, to make jokes, to try and make Merlin believe that he wasn’t scared. That Merlin was going to be fine. Even though Merlin was already slowing down and Gwaine could hear a little catch in his breath and he knew the pain was beginning.

“When we get back to Camelot,” he said. “When we get back to Camelot, I’m gonna make Arthur throw the biggest bash for us. A proper feast. That you can sit at and not serve at. We’ll get someone to serve you and we’ll have the best food. Venison, right?”

“I like venison,” Merlin said. He stumbled and Gwaine caught his arm, helping him stay standing. Merlin was shivering. Pain or dampness? Gwaine didn’t know. He didn’t dare ask.

“Venison then,” he said. “Venison with trimmings. And all the fruit we can imagine. Apples for me, of course. You know I love my apples.”

“I do,” Merlin said. “It’s ridiculous really. How can you eat that many apples and not turn into one?”

“It’s a skill,” Gwaine said merrily. “And apples are delicious. Your favourite fruit is grapes, right?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Hey, you’re my friend. I know everything about you. I watch you steal them from Arthur when you think he isn’t looking.”

Merlin laughed. The laugh turned into a gasp and he stopped walking. Gwaine caught him by the waist, holding him steady as he shivered.

“Gwaine,” Merlin said. “I ... I don’t know if ... ”

“Merlin. We are _not_ stopping. If I have to carry you, I will.”

“You’re tired. You’re weak – don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true, we’ve been tied up and forced to walk for nearly two days. You’ll have more chance without me. You can get back to Camelot. You can protect Arthur, you can look after Gwen. I’d rather you survive than us both die.”

Merlin was staring at him, all trace of his usual humour gone. Gwaine had seen this before but usually, it was when Merlin was telling Arthur something. It seemed to age him, transform him. Gwaine stared back at him for a moment, then gripped his shoulders tightly, pressing their foreheads together.

“Merlin. You can’t ask that of me. I _can’t_ leave you, do you understand? I can’t ... you are ... I have to try and save you because if you die, I ... I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what I’d do without you. Do you understand that?”

They were nearly kissing. Gwaine could feel Merlin’s breath on his mouth. He thought of all the times before when they’d been this close and he’d never taken advantage of it. Never felt it was the moment. Never wanted to risk the friendship they had. Always thought that there would be another day, a better time. Of last night, telling himself that if they escaped, he’d actually make the time instead of waiting. He’d told himself he wanted it to be fair but really, he’d just still been afraid of forging that final connection, of changing everything.

If Merlin died before he could save him ...

He had wasted so much time.

Gwaine kissed Merlin’s mouth once, quickly and firmly, then stepped back. Merlin blinked at him, apparently bewildered and Gwaine gave his cheek a gentle pat.

“We’re walking now,” he said. “And you are _not_ going to die. And then I’m going to kiss you properly, all right?”

Merlin smiled at him, a proper smile.

“All right,” he said. “Seems reasonable.”

Gwaine laughed at that. He took Merlin’s arm and gently tugged at him and after a moment, Merlin fell into step with them and they began walking again. Gwaine kept replaying the brisk kiss. Merlin’s mouth had felt how he’d thought it would – dry, soft. Merlin hadn’t really responded but he hadn’t had time to. Room for improvement – if they got the time.

He calculated from the movement of the rising sun that about half an hour had passed before Merlin was unable to walk. He’d clearly fought the pain for longer than that – he’d been unable to stop the gasps of pain and his arm had trembled under Gwaine’s hand more than once. But he’d pressed on grimly until now. He was sweating profusely and when Gwaine stopped walking, he sank to his knees at once.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped. “I’m sorry, really sorry, I ... it hurts, it hurts!”

Gwaine knelt down next to him, stroking his back, hating everything.

“Merlin, I’m going to carry you, all right? Just stay as still as possible.”

Merlin gave a jerky nod. He didn’t resist as Gwaine scooped him up, hanging him over his shoulder. Gwaine wished that he could do it better but he didn’t think he could keep Merlin on his back if Merlin let go and Merlin was sure to. And holding Merlin in his arms would slow them down far too much.

“It’s going to be fine,” he said. “You’ll see Merlin. It’s going to be fine.”

Merlin murmured something. Gwaine had a unhappy feeling that the words were becoming incoherent. What had that bastard said? Cramps, agony, fever, delirium ...

Gwaine couldn’t run with Merlin’s weight but he could walk faster and he did. He focused everything on each step, looking for anything that he might fall over, avoiding trees, listening for any sound of people and the sounds of Merlin’s gasped breaths.

The forest was thinning. Gwaine stumbled on, looking for a path, listening for water. Funny that you could go from sick from water to longing for it. He should have thought but it would have made no difference. He didn’t have anything to carry water in. He had nothing. But he would find something. He’d find water and they’d drink and he’d find help and he’d never waste time again, never ...

Water. A dirty-looking pool, but a pool and it was surrounded by damp moss, which was better. Elyan had told him once that the water in moss was safer than pool water if you were desperate and Gwaine hadn’t forgotten it. Gwaine carefully laid Merlin down and looked at him. Merlin’s cheeks were flushed. He was sweating.

“Merlin?”

“Gwaine,” Merlin mumbled.

“Got some water for you here. It’s not gonna be great but it’s better than nothing.”

He pulled a clump of the wet moss and wrung it out into Merlin’s mouth. Merlin swallowed it, licking his lips. Gwaine took another strip, giving some more to Merlin before squeezing some into his own mouth.

“Gwaine.”

Merlin had opened his eyes and was staring at Gwaine with a glassy expression. Gwaine smiled at him.

“Yeah?”

“Promise ... if I die, tell ... tell my mother. Tell her I ... I’m sorry and that ... that I met my father. She should know, she ... he was a good man and ... I always meant to tell her but there was never time ... ”

His words were slightly slurred and his eyelids were drooping. Gwaine took another scoop of water and poured it carefully into Merlin’s mouth.

“I’ll tell her,” he said. “I’ll tell her and I’ll protect her if she needs it and I’ll protect Arthur too. But please Merlin. Please let it be us telling her together, okay? Get better and we’ll go to Ealdor and I’ll meet your Mum and we’ll be happy. Please. Please?”

Merlin’s mouth quirked into a small smile.

“Okay.”

He closed his eyes. Gwaine gave up on the moss and took a few gulps of the water, then got up, looking around for a tree that he could climb. He needed to get his bearings. They were near the end of the forest, he was sure of that and once they were out, he might be able to find people. Any people would do, though he had his own ideas of who would be best. 

He’d always been good at tree-climbing and he was able to shin up one without much difficulty. He couldn’t get as high as he would have liked – he was too heavy these days – but he could get high enough to see the surrounding area. They were nearly out of the woods and he could see the smoke of chimneys not too far away. If he veered east, they should reach it within an hour and hopefully, they would be able to get him a horse.

If he had a horse, they could ride.

He scrambled back down the tree and returned to Merlin. Merlin was shifting on the ground, seemingly uncomfortable. When Gwaine picked him up, he shuddered. He was wet with sweat.

“It’s going to be fine,” Gwaine whispered to him. “I promise.”

He hurried as fast as he could but it was about three quarters of an hour before he stumbled into the village. The people stared at him with some doubt but they showed sympathy and gave them food. Merlin wouldn’t – or couldn’t – eat anything. He didn’t seem aware that Gwaine was talking to him. He murmured but it was incoherent nonsense and he didn’t seem to understand what Gwaine wanted when he dripped water onto his lips.

The villagers had no horses of their own but one of them produced a donkey and cart and offered to take Gwaine to where he needed to go. Gwaine knew this was the moment of truth. He could ask the people to take him to Camelot. They’d entirely possibly meet Arthur or the knights on the way. Gaius was good at his job. He might be able to save Merlin.

Or Gwaine could go to his sister.

Gwaine didn’t really get on with Elaine. He hadn’t ever. She was older, she was supposedly wiser, she’d known the days before they were penniless and resented their new life in a way that Gwaine had found confusing, then annoying. The last time they’d seen each other, they’d parted badly. He hadn’t quite sworn never to speak to her again – but he hadn’t spoken to her for years and when he talked about her, he usually focused on the dislike he’d felt, rather than the few good times.

But she lived in Mercia, not Camelot. She lived in a castle – had never hidden her noble status, found a good husband – and had money.

She lived in a place where magic wasn’t illegal.

It was hypocritical, he supposed. He was a knight of Camelot and magic was illegal there and doubtless always would be – though Arthur wasn’t as militant as Uther had once been. But he was militant enough that there wasn’t anybody that Gwaine would imagine would use magic on the king’s servant, even if they were begged to.

He couldn’t let Merlin die. He couldn’t. If it took magic, magic was what it would take. He would deal with the consequences afterwards.

He quietly gave the man directions to the castle where Elaine still lived. Then he sat beside Merlin and took his hand.

“You’re going to be all right, Merlin. It’s going to be fine. I’m taking care of you, okay? I’m taking care of you and you’re going to live.”

Merlin’s lips moved but nothing came out. His eyelashes fluttered a little, then he lay still. He was so hot that it was radiating from him. So hot that Gwaine couldn’t imagine that he could be all right inside. A fever could cook a man’s brain, change him forever. Was that what was happening to Merlin?

“Don’t die,” he whispered. “Please Merlin. I’m begging you. Please.”

He spent the journey alternating between dozing and talking to Merlin about anything that came into his head. He rambled about his childhood, about old friends and enemies, about the things that he’d done before Camelot. Stories that he’d told before, stories that he’d never told anybody and might never again. He stroked Merlin’s damp hair and forehead, promised him that everything would be all right, that they’d be home before Merlin knew it, that they’d be back with Arthur, that they’d see the others, that everything would be absolutely fine and their friends were waiting and they’d be happy, they’d all be happy ...

At some point in the middle of the rambling, he slipped back into a doze because the next time he opened his eyes, the cart was surrounded by men on horses and one frowning woman.

“Hi Elaine,” he said, trying to smile. “Long time no see, huh?”

She looked like she might slap him. Gwaine supposed he couldn’t really blame her.

“My friend,” he said. “Please. He’s dying.”

“So I see,” Elaine said and she didn’t sound as harsh as she could have done. “Why have you come to me, knight of Camelot?”

So, she’d heard about that too. Well, that was fine. Made it easier. He was too tired to dissemble, too afraid to waste time trying to be the big man.

“I want him to live. You must know people who can ... Elaine. Elaine, save him. Find someone to save him. Anyone. Please. I’m begging you.”

Her face softened. She looked at Merlin. Merlin’s face was grey and his breathing was shallow now. Gwaine couldn’t help thinking that he’d seen dead men that looked more alive.

“Please,” he said again. “Elaine. Anything you want.”

“Don’t beg,” she said. “It doesn’t become you. Let’s get you both inside.”

To Gwaine’s slight surprise, he needed to be helped out of the cart. The days of struggling through the woods had clearly taken their toll on him. His whole body ached more than it had in a long time. He let the men help him but insisted on being taken to where Merlin was taken. They put Merlin on a bed and brought cold water and some sort of herbal drink which Gwaine had to coax down Merlin’s throat drop by drop. Merlin clearly had no idea what was happening to him any more. He was dying and Gwaine was being forced to watch.

He had finally got the last bits of the drink into Merlin and was picking at the food that had been sent when the door opened and a woman walked in. She wore embroidered robes that reminded Gwaine a little of Gaius. She looked at Gwaine and her eyes were cool.

“You have come a long way,” she said.

“My friend,” Gwaine said. “My friend, he’s – ”

“He is dying,” she interrupted. “He will not last another day.”

Gwaine swallowed. Hearing it so bluntly, even though he knew it, it ...

“Can you save him?”

“Why should I?” she said. “You are a knight of Camelot. He is a servant of Camelot. A servant to the king, no less, who does not welcome my kind.”

Her voice was cold but as she spoke, she was examining Merlin and she was doing it gently, almost tenderly. Gwaine hoped that was a good sign.

“Merlin’s a good man,” he said. “One of the best men I’ve ever known. He’s ... he cares about people, he hates to see people suffer. I don’t know anybody who wants to help people more. Sometimes, he makes a mess, he ... he doesn’t realise how many people care about him, doesn’t realise that he ought to rely on us as much as we rely on him. He took this poison so I’d live and I can’t ... he’s a better man than me. If it had to be one of us, I’d have it be him every time.”

Merlin suddenly stirred. He gave a little gasp, shook his head very slightly, his mouth moving, uttering the first coherent words he had in hours.

“Gwaine. No, don’t, don’t ... ”

He settled again under the woman’s hand. She gave a soft sigh.

“Come here,” she ordered.

Gwaine obeyed, moving uncertainly to her side. She took his hand very tightly in hers, looking at him. Gwaine saw her eyes flicker to a different colour for a moment, then felt something cold and heavy appear in his hand.

“That ball,” she said. “Hold it tightly. Gradually, it will become hot and light. When it is burning you - _truly_ burning you – and trying to float away, let it go. If he is able to cling to life for long enough, it will save him. Let go of the ball too early and the magic will fade and he will die. Let go of it too late and he will die. And you _will_ know the moment, Sir Gwaine. Fail to act in that moment and he will not survive.”

“I’ll act,” Gwaine said immediately. “I will.”

“We shall see,” she said. “There will be no cost. Save him or do not.”

She left the room. Gwaine stared after her for a moment, then sat down, clutching the ball in his hand and staring at Merlin. He supposed that the whole thing might be a trick but he also supposed that it didn’t matter. Merlin was dying, that was clear. Whatever happened now, it would either help or finish it all.

“Hang on in there, Merlin,” he said. “I’m going to save you. I’ve got the cure. You just have to fight until I can give it to you. Fight.”

Merlin didn’t move. He gave no sign of having heard Gwaine’s voice at all. His breath continued in the shallow, uneven pants. Gwaine clutched the ball and watched his chest rise and fall, counting along. It gave him something to focus on.

Time ticked by. The shadows lengthened. A servant came in with a tray of food which Gwaine ignored. The ball was gradually warming in his hands but not uncomfortably so. He wished that it would get uncomfortable. He wouldn’t care if it burned so badly that he couldn’t ever use a sword again. He just wanted Merlin to be all right. Was Merlin’s breath worse? Gwaine thought that it was.

“Don’t die, Merlin. Don’t die.”

The ball was getting a bit hotter – or was that his imagination? He hoped it wasn’t. He didn’t dare open his hand to check. He just squeezed it tighter and stroked Merlin’s cheek with his other hand. It was dark now. He had no idea what time it was. Nobody had come for a while. Perhaps Elaine was keeping them away. Perhaps the sorceress was. He didn’t care.

It was definitely getting hotter now, verging on uncomfortable. It didn’t feel as heavy now either. Gwaine didn’t dare open his fingers to look but he felt a tiny flicker of hope. It was working and Merlin wasn’t looking any worse. Just a bit longer. As long as he didn’t miss the moment – but she had said he would know.

The ball got hotter and hotter. He could feel it moving in his hands now, see light shining from between his fingers. Gwaine moved, leaning close to Merlin, waiting. He knew the moment would be soon and if he missed it, if Merlin died because of his own stupidity ... it didn’t bear thinking about. It didn’t. Merlin’s breath was beginning to rattle now, a sound that Gwaine had heard before, the breathing of a dying man but it was all right, it _was_ , because it was almost time, he knew it, he felt as though it was almost there, almost ready, perhaps even a matter of seconds. It was so hot –

The door slammed open. The ball burned and Gwaine looked up to see Arthur standing in the doorway, white-faced, staring at Merlin, at Gwaine, at the light that was spilling from Gwaine’s hand.

 _“Fail to act in that moment and he will not survive.”_.

Gwaine opened his hand. The ball flew instantly, hanging over Merlin’s body for a moment before dropping suddenly into his open mouth. Golden light spilled out, rippling through Merlin’s whole body under his skin, spiralling in swirled patterns. Merlin’s eyes opened and for a moment, they flashed a bright gold, brighter than the ball Gwaine had dropped. Then his eyes closed and he took a deep, cleansing breath and the gold faded, leaving Merlin lying there, cheeks already a better colour, breathing soft and regular.

Gwaine swallowed. He looked up again at Arthur. Arthur was staring at Merlin. He was sweaty and Gwaine realised that Arthur had rode to them at speed and not even stopped to wash or greet anybody. It was not surprising. Arthur cared for Merlin deeply. Elaine must have sent a message saying that Merlin and Gwaine were here and that Merlin was dying. Arthur would have dropped everything to come. And he’d come in time to see Gwaine using magic.

Gwaine stood up. He held himself straight.

“He was dying,” he said. “He was dying and I could not risk it. He did not know, he hasn’t ... but I’d do it again and gladly if it saves him.”

Arthur was still staring at Merlin. He moved and sat on one of the chairs, folding his arms. It wasn’t quite what Gwaine was expecting. 

“Sit down,” Arthur ordered. His voice was flat. Slowly, Gwaine obeyed.

“Now we wait and see if he survives,” Arthur said quietly.

They waited. The candles burned low but neither of them moved to replace them. Merlin’s breath was deep and easy, his skin slowly recovering its usual colour. He stirred occasionally, moved, but it was the normal movement of someone sleeping after a long, exhausting time. Arthur didn’t speak and so Gwaine didn’t either. He dozed a little in his chair, jerking awake whenever his brain realised it, not sure that it was safe enough to sleep.

The light of dawn was touching the window when Merlin suddenly stirred, a proper stir. Gwaine jerked to his feet and leaned over him.

“Merlin?”

Merlin’s eyes opened. He blinked.

“Gwaine?” he said and then. “ _Gwaine!_ ”

He jerked up and kissed Gwaine clumsily on the mouth, catching hold of him to hold him close. Gwaine kissed back, not caring that his mouth was dry and doubtless tasted horrible, just knowing that Merlin was alive, they were both _alive_ and it was wonderful.

Arthur coughed pointedly. Gwaine jumped, moved back and Merlin blinked.

“ _Arthur?_ ”

“Indeed,” Arthur said. “Where’s _my_ kiss then?”

Merlin was beaming, the usual wonderful Merlin grin that made Gwaine’s heart beat faster to see. Merlin was alive and he was himself, undamaged, _real_.

“I mean, you shouldn’t really get a kiss because you’re married but I mean, you _are_ the king, so if you really _want_ ... ” Merlin was saying now, reaching out his arms and making silly kissing gestures with his mouth. Arthur pressed his lips tightly together and Gwaine knew he was fighting laughter.

“I’ll pass, thank you Merlin. Do you know how annoying this has been? Lady Ranghild sending me messengers asking where you are? Getting all cross as though it was _my_ fault? You and Gwaine were on a _mission_ , I expected you to do a bit better than get yourselves kidnapped!”

“Sorry, I’m sure,” Merlin said, leaning back on the pillows. “Didn’t mean to put you out.”

“Well, you did. Idiot. And now I have to go and speak to the lady of the house. Better get you some breakfast too, I think. Gwaine, walk with me.”

Gwaine gave Merlin another quick kiss. Merlin smiled at him, then snuggled down, closing his eyes. Gwaine looked at him for a moment, taking him all in before following Arthur out of the room, closing the door quietly behind them. 

“Your report, Sir Gwaine.”

Gwaine told him everything that had happened, as calmly and truthfully as he could. Arthur listened, his expression blank. Gwaine reached the moment that they’d arrived at the village, then paused. He could lie. He could say anything that he wanted.

“I chose to take him to my sister,” he said. “We’re over the border. Magic is not illegal here. I couldn’t risk him dying, Ar – Sire. I couldn’t have lived with myself. I know it’s rank hypocrisy, I know that I have broken my oath but – ”

“You swore to protect him,” Arthur interrupted quietly. “You have done so, every step of the way. Merlin is alive and recovering, as are you. I don’t see any need to examine anything further than that. I can’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same.”

Gwaine sagged with relief. He had hoped ... but he had not been certain. He knew what he had done would have led to his execution under other men. He wasn’t quite sure that he didn’t deserve it. He felt guilty through his joy.

“She didn’t even ask for payment,” he said. “She just ... saved him.”

Arthur looked at him for a moment, then sighed. He suddenly looked exhausted.

“Sometimes, I wonder if I’m getting it all wrong,” he said quietly. “Maybe I am. I don’t know. Magic does such harm but ... such good sometimes. Thank you for having him saved, Gwaine. Go back to him now. I’ll get food sent to you. Make sure he eats it. And Gwaine? I’m ... happy for you. Both of you. Don’t mess him around. Making the king’s servant cry is probably a capital offense.”

He was smiling warmly as he said it and Gwaine grinned back.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “Be nice to my sister now.”

“The Lady Elaine is your _sister?_ Did I know ... never mind. Go back to Merlin!”

Gwaine obeyed the instruction. Merlin was sound asleep and Gwaine kicked off his boots and lay down beside him, closing his eyes and relaxing fully for the first time in days.

When he woke, Merlin was sitting up next to him stroking his hair. He grinned a bit sheepishly.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Gwaine said. “What time is it?”

“No idea,” Merlin said, sounding happy. “They bought us breakfast but you slept though it and lunch but you slept through that too and I ate it.”

“You ate _all_ of it?”

“I was hungry. They’ll probably bring something else eventually.”

Gwaine swatted him, then kissed him. Merlin immediately snuggled in, kissing back. It was a proper kiss now, the kind of kiss that told you the person involved wasn’t just happy to see you, they were _delighted_ to see you and Gwaine found himself clinging to Merlin, half-afraid that he’d let go and it would stop and Merlin would be gone.

“You’re shaking,” Merlin said softly. “Are you okay?”

“Just ... this isn’t ... I didn’t think it would happen,” Gwaine said. “I thought you were going to die. I thought I’d wasted all this time and ... and ... ”

His voice was trailing off. He thought for an awful moment that he was going to cry which was ridiculous because he was a grown man and didn’t cry, only it still seemed to be there. Merlin obviously thought this too. He put his arms around Gwaine’s neck and hugged him tightly.

“I’m all right. I’m not dead. See? I’m alive and ... and really happy and everything’s going to be all right.”

“I used magic to save you,” Gwaine said because he thought Merlin ought to know that too. “I came here specially to use magic.”

“I thought you didn’t like magic.” Merlin’s voice was quiet. He was still cuddling Gwaine tightly, which Gwaine hoped had to be a good sign.

“I don’t like the magic we usually see,” he said. “But then, they’re usually trying to kill us with it, so ... I’ve nothing against it in principle. And I didn’t want you to die and honestly, that sort of took over everything. Are you mad about that?”

“No,” Merlin said. “No. Magic doesn’t bother me.”

He kissed Gwaine again, firm and determined and Gwaine decided that was clearly the end of the conversation. He kissed back and stroked Merlin’s hair and let Merlin press against him and felt warm and wonderful and safe for the first time in a while.

*

It was three days before Merlin was better enough to get out of bed. Gwaine chose to spend most of the time in the bed with him, not for sex but for the companionship of it. Merlin tended to stay cuddled up to him, his head nestled quite comfortably on Gwaine’s shoulder. They talked a lot, about all sorts of things, some of it good, some of it bad. Gwaine had a feeling that Merlin was holding something back but he didn’t ask. He knew that Merlin would be working whatever it was through. He’d tell Gwaine when he was ready.

The times when Merlin was really flat-out sleep, Gwaine allowed himself to wander. He talked to Elaine a few times. To his slight amazement, she and Arthur appeared to be getting on extremely well and were discussing diplomatic links.

“I don’t know why you dislike her,” Arthur said. “She’s nice. I’ve invited her to Camelot. Her husband died some years ago, you know. Do you think she and Leon would get along?”

Gwaine decided to keep his mouth shut. Elaine had saved his bacon after all. It would be rude to try and sabotage Arthur’s lunatic matchmaking before it had even begun. He just smiled and nodded. He knew he and Elaine would never be friends but it was better than it had been and he was pleased by that.

On the third day, Merlin was out of bed and cheerful. On the fourth, Arthur said that if Merlin was well enough to dance around the room with Gwaine like an idiot, he was well enough to start doing his chores and go home again.

“Stopping at Castle Ranghild on the way,” he added grumpily. “We might as well all go now. At least that will mean neither of you can get lost or kidnapped or do anything stupid.”

He walked out and Gwaine turned to Merlin.

“Ah well. That’s the holiday over, I’m guessing. Back to Camelot, back to work.”

“It’s not so bad,” Merlin said. “We’re both _very_ good at dodging work!”

He was smiling when he said it but Gwaine could see he was a little worried. He grabbed Merlin’s hand and pulled him close, nuzzling at the side of his neck.

“Hey. Don’t think going home is going to distract me. A man doesn’t go to all this effort to learn and change just to let it go, you know. So I might have to spend a little more time training but you can spend that time watching me get sweaty and sexy. Win-win for everybody, right?”

Merlin laughed but he didn’t relax. He wrapped his arms around Gwaine’s waist and clung on.

“Gwaine. There’s something I hadn’t told you. Can’t tell you. Yet, I mean. I ... it’s something important and ... I have to tell someone else first, it ... they need to know and ... and it might be bad Gwaine, it might be really bad and I don’t know what will happen and ...”

“Merlin. Merlin, stop,” Gwaine ordered. “Whatever it is ... I’ll be there, all right? You tell your secret to whoever needs to know first and then you can tell it to me and whatever it is, I’ll listen and we’re work through it. I already said, you think I’m going to get let go of something that took me so long to get in the first place? Never gonna happen. You’re mine now and unless you want to go, I’m not going to let you leave.”

Merlin gave a little breath. A shuddery one, as though he were trying not to cry. Gwaine stroked his back and kissed the side of his neck gently.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you too,” Merlin said slowly, almost wonderingly, as though he’d never expected it. Gwaine kissed his neck again and smiled when he felt Merlin relax this time. He couldn’t help wondering what Merlin’s secret was but he pushed the thought away. It wasn’t fair. Merlin would tell him when he was ready. He believed that. And whatever it was, they’d get through it together because that was what they were going to do now.

They were partners now. And Gwaine was never going to let that change.


End file.
